Monday

[misc] Murderface Monday

Murderface, making biscuits.

Making Biscuits


I did a quick Google search, asking why cats knead. The best answer? "It goes back to the ancient Roman times when cats were enslaved to bake bread."

The Fiber Package of Doom that I was having such a hard time tracking last week was found and is currently en route to me, three weeks after it was originally shipped. Apparently my address was written with a completely incorrect zip code for Huntington, West Virginia.

I had to do all the hunting/finding myself. I did call USPS the day the package was mis-delivered. They said they'd get back to me in two business days. I called them after two business days and they said they needed another day because things were so backed up from the holidays. I called them again and they said that I should get in touch with my local post office to help me find out where the package was. I called my local post office and they said that there were so many post offices in Hartford, CT that it would be impossible to find out which one delivered the package or where it was. I called USPS Help and they said that since my local post office couldn't help me, there were going to increase the importance of my incident and call me back in two business days.

Sick of the run-around, I called post office after post office in Hartford, CT (leaving messages for people to call me back- no one did) until I found a human who could give me the phone number of the post office at the zip code where it was delivered. After talking to the clerk there, he told me that my post office box number at that zip code was for the Salvation Army and they had picked up the box. And it had been gone for a week. So he said he'd call them and see if they still had it.

I called the USPS help desk for Northern New England (the woman I was connected with told me she had never seen a package go to so many places before with such a weird tracking history, destination and delivery). I started calling every Salvation Army that I thought was in the same zip code as the post office.

I finally got a call back from the clerk. He had the package. In front of him. Someone from the Salvation Army had come to return it. He told me about the wrong zip code. I can't even believe it but I was soooooo happy and relieved. Especially since it didn't sound the girl on Ravelry was going to give me a refund.

Anyway, no thanks to anyone else (except Jon, the post clerk full on win), I found the package myself. Awesome, yes, but it left me so bitter and jaded. I want to say lots of mean things about everyone who attempted to "help" me but if you haven't got anything nice to say...

1 comment:

gayle said...

I'm not buying that bread story...
We have trouble getting packages delivered up here even with the right zip code. We live on a class 4 road with a name that induces college students to steal the sign. *sigh*